Oh, What a Life
by musicalfruitninja
Summary: One messy life collides with another when schoolteacher Laura Roslin begins tutoring the son of ex-military Bill Adama. Hard times are ahead of them both, but will they be able to hold each other up, or will the weight of their combined problems drag them both down?
1. Chapter 1

"Ms. Roslin, I have a question."

"You'll have to wait a moment, Lee."

"But it's really important!"

Laura looks up from her grading and pierces Lee with her infamous over-the-glasses glare . . . only for it to have no effect whatsoever. She sighs, setting down her pen and taking off her glasses. She loves her students, and absolutely adores Lee Adama and appreciates his enthusiasm, but does the kid ever rest?

"All right, Lee," she says as she walks to his desk and crouches beside him. "What is it?"

"I don't know how to do this problem. Will you help?"

Laura looks to the worksheet on the desk where Lee is pointing to problem number four . . . out of twelve. He should be nearly finished by now; what's taking so long?

"We went over this two days ago, Lee. Didn't you study?"

"Yes! But this one's different, it's harder."

"There was a problem just like this on the homework I assigned. You didn't cheat on the homework, did you?"

Lee's jaw drops.

"Never, Ms. Roslin! I promise!"

Laura nods. She believes him. But he's been doing poorly in math for weeks now, and she's starting to get concerned.

"Why don't you skip this problem and come back to it later?"

"I tried that, but I can't figure out the other ones either."

Laura sighs. She's going to end up having to call his parents.

"All right, Lee. Just try your best and I'll help you later. Okay?"

"All right Ms. Roslin, I guess I'll try."

"Good boy."

Laura stands and retreats to her desk, but just as she sits down a little hand shoots into the air.

"Ms. Roslin!"

* * *

I probably shouldn't be starting another long work, but I already have a lot of this written and it's coming along unexpectedly well. So, stay tuned, it shouldn't be long before I post more.


	2. Chapter 2

Bill walks down the school hallways and looks for classroom 196, feeling sorely out of place amongst the many childish drawings pinned to long, brightly colored cork boards. What was it that office lady had said? Turn right, left, right . . . left at the bathrooms? Or right? He sighs. Frak it.

"Excuse me," he pulls aside a tall, skinny man with floppy hair and oval glasses and asks, "Can you help me find Ms. Laura Roslin's classroom?"

"Oh, sure! You know I think I'll just show you, come on follow me!"

This man's eagerness is frightening.

Nonetheless, Bill (with some hesitance) follows the giddy creature down the hall and stops after traveling only a short ways. Honestly, he could have just told Bill the room was on the right.

When the man opens the door, Bill is met with quite a sight. All the desks and chairs have been dragged to the walls, making a big space in the center of the room. There's music, and almost two-dozen small children jumping up and down. In the center of it all, jumping as if she's a child herself, is who Bill assumes to be Ms. Roslin.

"Oh, Ms. Roslin!" calls the man, straightening his (polka dot?) bowtie and bouncing on the balls of his feet. Taking note of the large dorky smile plastered to the man's face and the slight coloring to his cheeks, Bill realizes why he was so eagerly escorted to Ms. Roslin's class. This man obviously has quite a crush on the teacher.

At the sound of her name, Ms. Roslin looks up and, noticing Bill, leaves the children and makes her way to them. Suddenly Bill sees the appeal. Slightly breathless with glasses slid all the way down her nose, a messy bun of copper-gold, disheveled clothes, and sparkling green eyes - what's not to like?

"Yes? Can I help you?" Her eyes dart from Bill to the love-struck man beside him.

"Hi Ms. Roslin – er, Laura, I mean uh-"

"I just came because you called about my son, Lee?"

"Oh, you must be Bill Adama! Right, well if you'll please wait here, I'll be right with you. Thank you for bringing him to me, Mr. Kaynard." She nods at the other man, who blushes bright red, mumbles some sort of "you're welcome" and scuttles off. Ms. Roslin giggles lightly and shakes her head, before returning to the students. She turns off the music, eliciting a chorus of "Awww" from the class, and then addresses them.

"All right, it's about time to go. The bell will be ringing any minute so go pack your bags and put the desks back, quick!"

Something about the tone of her voice has the students believing that cleaning up is some sort of game, and they're all quick (laughing, yelling, and bumping into each other all the way) to obey. Even his son, Bill notes, who usually fights tooth and nail against any sort of chore, is eager to be the first to have his bag packed.

The teacher makes a half-hearted attempt at straightening her attire, but gives up once her glasses are pushed back to their proper place.

"Sorry about that," she says, walking over to Bill and crossing her arms. Funny how she can look so professional with bangs askew, strands of hair escaping her bun and without a pair of shoes. "I couldn't very well take the children outside in the rain for recess today, so I had to improvise with a few indoor games."

"It's fine," Bill chuckles, secretly amused by her. "Am I early?"

"A little, yes." She laughs. "But it's all right; class ends in just a couple-"

A loud, buzzing bell interrupts her. She grimaces and points up.

"Now, actually. Oh, watch out!"

She pulls him out of the way just as a stream of kids rushes past.

"Goodbye Ms. Roslin!"

"Thank you!"

One child runs up, hugs the teacher, yells out a goodbye, and then dashes back through the door. After Ms. Roslin calls out farewells to the rest of the class, Lee is the only one left.

"Hi Dad! What are you doing here?"

"He's just here for a meeting with me, Lee; everybody's parents have to do it every once in a while. Why don't you go ahead and get a head start on that reading assignment while you wait? This shouldn't take long."

Lee shrugs and goes to sit down, opening his bag and pulling out a book.

"I know the chairs are a bit small, but if you'll have a seat . . .?"

Ms. Roslin gestures towards a bright orange chair, and pulls a purple one forward for herself. They both sit, albeit awkwardly.

"So, you mentioned Lee was," Bill glances at Lee, and lowers his voice slightly, "falling behind? That doesn't sound like him."

"Yes, he is, and I agree that it is odd. He's a very bright boy and an enthusiastic learner; I've never had any problems with him until a couple weeks ago. He's doing especially poor in math at the moment; nothing is so captivating about numbers compared to a fun story, I suppose. I was wondering if maybe there's anything going on at home that could be distracting him?"

Well, this woman gets right to the point, doesn't she?

"Actually," Bill leans in, resting his elbows on his knees. "Lee's mother and I, our divorce finally got finalized about a month ago, and," he sighs, "his mother . . . has some issues to work through, so I have full custody of Lee and his brother. Please, I'd like this to stay between you and me."

"Of course, Mr. Adama. Gods . . ." she looks over to Lee with genuine concern, giving a small sigh. "It must be so hard for him. Is he the older brother?"

"Yeah."

Laura nods.

"He's very responsible."

"Is there anything we can do? I don't want him to fall too far behind."

"Oh, there's always something we can do." Ms. Roslin smiles. "While I feel that singling him out during lunch or recess would do more harm than good, I'd be happy to work with him after school."

"I'm sorry, I don't have the money for tutoring-"

"Don't worry about that. You don't have to pay me anything."

"Really? You'd do that?"

"Of course. Parents always find this hard to believe, but I want your child to succeed just as much as you do. I'd be happy to do it."

"That's very kind of you, Ms. Roslin, but I don't have a way to pick him up that late. I'm in the process of getting a bookstore off the ground; it took considerable bribing just to be here today."

"A bookstore? Lee said you were a viper pilot."

Bill sighs.

"I uh, had an accident. Can't fly anymore."

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I had no idea."

"Yeah, well, it worked out for the best. I get to spend more time with my kids this way."

"I could come to your house."

"What?"

"Private tutoring. I do it all the time for my musical students, it would really be no problem."

"Private . . . are you sure I wouldn't be putting you out? You already spend so much time here."

"I assure you Mr. Adama, it's no problem at all. As I said, I'd be happy to help, and Lee truly is a wonderful boy. He deserves the best. What time works best for you?"

"Well, I have a sitter that watches the boys from two-thirty to five-"

"Monday through Friday from two-thirty to five sounds perfect to me."

"Are you positive you don't want to be paid? I'm sure that-"

"I'm quite sure, Mr. Adama. Should we start tomorrow?"

"I. . . all right, yes. Tomorrow."

They both stand and shake hands.

"Great. See you then."

Bill nods.

"Thank you, Ms. Roslin."

"Anything for my students."

And with that, Bill takes his son and is dismissed from Ms. Roslin's classroom with a smile and a wave.


	3. Chapter 3

Wow a new chapter every day. ... I have way too much time on my hands. Haha. Also thank you guys for your reviews! Your support is much appreciated.

* * *

At precisely half past two, Laura pulls her car into the driveway of an average sized, modernized home that's very obviously occupied by two little boys. A child-sized bike rests against the porch railing, a basketball hoop stands in the driveway, and numerous balls, action figures, and other toys litter the yard.

Before she can run over the toys in the driveway, Bill Adama dashes out of the house and hurries to gather them up and chuck them into the grass. Once she's pulled up all the way and put the car in park, he opens the door and helps her out of the car.

"Such chivalry, Mr. Adama."

Mr. Adama grins somewhat sheepishly.

"Sorry for the mess. It's hard enough to keep track of the boys, much less their toys."

Laura laughs.

"I understand. Is Lee inside?"

"He is. If you'll follow me . . ."

He lightly ushers her along, up the front porch steps and to the front door.

"Again," he says, stopping before entering the house, "I apologize for the mess."

When he opens the door, Laura steps into a madhouse. Toys are everywhere – the floor, the furniture, the stairs. In the corner by the glass sliding doors in the sitting room a mess of paints has colorfully redecorated the walls and floor, there are scribbles on the walls, and a picture has fallen from its place on the wall.

"Oh!" Laura yelps as a large dog barks and dashes in front of her, followed closely by Lee Adama and an even smaller boy, who are screaming out,

"No Noodles, you can't eat that! Come back! COME BACK!"

"Lee!" Mr. Adama yells, "Lee, Ms. Roslin is here!"

Moments later, Lee comes skidding back around the corner wearing a toothy grin.

"Ms. Roslin!" he cries gleefully, jumping up and down. Then he stops and looks around, horrorstruck.

"I didn't clean . . ."

Laura laughs.

"It's quite all right, Lee. Why don't you go set up your homework and come get me when you're ready?"

"Okay!" Lee dashes off to do just that, and at that same moment Bill Adama appears (when did he leave?) with his three year old in his arms.

"This is Zak," he says, bouncing the child and eliciting a bubbly giggle. "He's pretty easy to handle, just keep him in your sight and give him a snack if he gets fussy. I won't be here to greet you every day, but if the school bus makes it here before you do the neighbor in the blue house next door will hold them for you."

Laura simply nods. She has to admit; this is a little more than she anticipated. But she teaches five and six year olds all day, every day; she can handle it. Mr. Adama hands her the child, asking with an unsure expression,

"You sure you're up for this?"

Laura smirks.

"Yes, Mr. Adama. Please, go – get that business up and running. I honestly can't tell you how pleased I am that a decent bookstore might finally open up somewhere close by. Don't worry, I have everything under control here."

Bill nods, seeming somewhat reluctant, but grabs his bag and heads for the door anyways.

"Thank you," he says again, and, tossing her a small wave, he leaves. Laura sighs. Time to get to work.


	4. Chapter 4

When Bill pulls into his driveway at ten past five, he does not expect to find his yard void of toys. And yet, here he sits in his car, the light of the day already beginning the fade away, and he doesn't see one toy, or hear even one scream or bark. Nothing.

He gets out of his car and slings his bag over his shoulder, hopping up the front porch steps and opening the door.

It's still quiet and, even more astonishing, _clean_. His jaw drops and his bag hits the floor. No toys. No paints. No screaming children or wild dog.

He walks further into the house, into the kitchen, where he finds Lee sitting at the table next to Ms. Roslin, who has the dog on the floor at her feet and little Zak in her lap as he colors (on paper, no less). She's talking softly, but seems to be showing Lee how to do a math problem. She has paint on her, he notices, and her glasses and shoes have been discarded. She looks . . . at home. Bill shakes his head fiercely, angry with himself, refusing to believe that his face feels hot and his cheeks might be pink.

"Oh, Mr. Adama. I didn't hear you come in."

Ms. Roslin looks up and flashes him a smile. A very pretty smile. _No, just a smile_ , Bill tells himself, forcing himself to smile back.

"I just got here. I see you all have been productive – the whole house is spotless. I hope they didn't give you too much trouble?"

"No trouble at all! They were both just lovely, and Lee here is already showing progress. You have a wonderful family, Mr. Adama."

Bill has a very hard time believing that _his_ chaotic sons provided absolutely no trouble for the classy Caprican schoolteacher, but given how calm and clean things are looking, he decides not to push it.

Ms. Roslin sits Zak down in another chair and gathers her things, reminding Lee to study a few particular topics and methods, and then, after saying goodbye, walks with Bill to the front door.

"I don't know how to thank you for all of this . . . this is amazing. The house hasn't been this clean since . . ." _Since Carolanne, in the early days, before the drinking started,_ he thinks, but doesn't add. He clears his throat. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

Ms. Roslin hums and nods a response, and Bill opens the door for her.

"Thank you!" Bill calls as she heads towards her car. Ms. Roslin simply turns with a smile and says,

"No, thank _you_."

And she drives away.


	5. Chapter 5

Hey guys so I just settled into my dorm yesterday and classes are about to start, so the every day updates are definitely coming to an end, haha. I've never been this busy. But anyways here's the next chapter, hope you enjoy.

* * *

Babysitting the Adama boys is exhausting work. While they are certainly two of the most respectable, loveable children Laura has ever met, they _always_ seem to crave attention. Which isn't too surprising, Laura reminds herself. They were, for the most part, without a father for the first few years of their lives, and now they're without a mother. Of course they crave attention. And she's happy to give it to them, no matter how tiring they can be. Honestly, she feels like she's becoming a little too attached to these boys, and what's even more concerning?

Their father makes her blush.

"Ms. Roslin, do you _have_ to leave?"

Little Zak tugs at the hem of her skirt, those big blue Adama eyes looking up at her pleadingly.

"Unfortunately the answer is yes, darling. But I'll be back tomorrow."

"But Ms. Roslin! I'm finally starting to understand history, I just need more context! Can't you stay and read with me just a little longer?"

"Not tonight, I'm sorry Lee. You're actually doing very well; I doubt you'll need me for much longer."

"You'll still come play with us, right Ms. Roslin?" asks Zak innocently, having completely wrapped himself around her leg at this point.

Laura's heart sinks. She sees her distress reflected in the eyes of Mr. Adama, who then pries Zak off of Laura's leg and sits him next to his brother.

"Lee, watch your brother while I walk Ms. Roslin out."

Lee mumbles a reply, plopping down next to Zak on the floor. Laura sighs and walks to the front door and is followed onto the porch by Mr. Adama.

"I'm sorry," she says, averting her gaze. "I never usually get this close; I should have been more careful, especially after their mother . . ." She sighs and shakes her head. How could she have been so stupid? Hasn't she learned her lesson yet? "I'm sorry," she says again.

"Laura."

She looks up. That's the first time he's used her first name. The next thing she knows his hand has gently raised her chin and his soft, caring expression and kind eyes have taken her breath away. Slowly, his lips graze hers in a feather light kiss. Her eyes involuntarily flutter shut and she breathes in deeply through her nose, but all too soon he pulls away, smiling. She's smiling too, she realizes. A giggly hum bubbles up from inside her, and Bill chuckles.

"Ms. Roslin, I was wondering . . . Do you have dinner plans?"

"Tonight?"

"Tonight."

"Well, aren't you prompt? That's quite rude of you, you know." She's partly joking, but part of her, she knows, is trying to put him on the offensive, ward him off, push him away. Her heart pounds against her chest, unsure about what he'll say next – or what she wants him to say next.

Mr. Adama shrugs and stuffs his hands in his pockets, grinning.

"What do you say? I know the boys would love it. Think of it as a gesture of thanks."

This is not a good idea. She is absolutely _absolutely_ the wrong person to bring into these boys' lives, and a just-divorced man is absolutely not the right person for her to fall in love with right now, not while her mother is . . . not after everything. And she will almost certainly fall in love with this man, if she doesn't walk away right now.

"What are we having?" The words are out of her mouth before she can stop them.

"I don't know," Mr. Adama laughs, a wide grin spreading across his face. He looks positively delighted.

Yes, Laura thinks, as she follows him back inside; she will certainly fall in love with Bill Adama. So why isn't she walking away?


	6. Chapter 6

He's not sure why he did it. With a recent divorce, two small boys, and a psychotic ex-wife who'll always have a place in his heart, Bill is in no position to be asking schoolteachers on dates. And yet last night, as they stood on his porch and she expressed her concern for his kids, with those eyes of hers and the way her hair fell, and then when he'd kissed her . . . .

"What the hell are you smiling at?"

Bill quickly stands to attention, pushing himself off the counter of his still-in-the-rough bookstore and pretending to have been filling out paperwork as his oldest friend, Saul Tigh, walks into the room.

"Was I?"

Saul sighs. "Who is she?"

"Who?"

"The woman who's got you wrapped around her finger."

"There is no woman, Saul."

"Do you know what a terrible liar you are?"

Bill sighs and rolls his eyes, returning to his paperwork.

"There's no woman," he says gruffly. He hears Saul snort.

"Right."

But there is a woman. Her name is Laura. She's a schoolteacher. She loves his kids. She's pretty, and kind, and funny, and patient, and when he's around her he never wants her to leave and when he's not she's always on his mind. Maybe tonight he could ask her on a real date, without the kids getting in the-

"Bill! Cut it out, will you? You're freaking me out."

"Sorry."

As Saul carries some boxes from the room, Bill pulls out his phone and dials Laura's number, but ends the call before the phone even starts to ring. Maybe this isn't a good idea. He's being stupid, right? She doesn't want to get into a relationship with someone with as much baggage as he has. And what about the boys? What if they get too attached too soon? They already like her so much . . . But thinking about her smile, the way she'd hummed when he kissed her, the smell of her hair, and the way she'd made herself right at home in his house, convinced him otherwise. He had to see her again – just for dinner. What harm could one dinner date do? He calls her again, butterflies fluttering in his stomach, and he jolts when she answers sooner than he expected.

"Hello?"

"Uh, Laura? Hi, it's Bill. Bill Adama."

"Oh, hi Bill."

She sounds a little nervous. Is that a good thing? That's a good thing, right?

"Hey, I was wondering . . . I had a good time last night, uh . . . and . . . I was wondering if you-"

On Laura's end, loud voices and the rattling of some sort of equipment reach his ears from over the phone. Are those doctors yelling?

"Oh my gods! I'm sorry Bill, I-I need to call you back - bye."

"Wait, Laura are you all right? Are you in the hospital?"

But before she can answer his questions, she hangs up.


	7. Chapter 7

Laura paces out in the hall outside her mother's hospital room, back and forth, back and forth. She had offered to drive her mother in for her doloxin treatment, but something was wrong . . . her mother had a seizure, and Laura was ushered out of the room. When is that damned doctor going to come out and talk to her?

At last, the door opens, and her mother's doctor emerges. Laura immediately steps towards him, arms crossed, unable to mask her worry. The doctor's expression gives her no clues as to her mother's condition.

"Well? How is she? Will she be all right?"

"The seizure has passed, and your mother is resting. She's fine for now but, Ms. Roslin . . . You and your family need to start preparing. We're getting closer to the end."

Laura nods, pressing her lips together and blinking hard to keep the stinging away. She knew this was coming. Terminal breast cancer is terminal, after all.

"How long, do you think?"

"Days, maybe a week. I'm very sorry, Ms. Roslin – Laura. I wish there was something more we could do."

"I understand." Laura bites her bottom lip as it begins to tremble, and a tear drips down her cheek. "I, um, i-is she awake now?"

The doctor nods. "Yes ma'am."

"Okay." Laura nods. "Okay. I just um, I need moment." Turning away from the doctor, she sucks in a shaky breath, squeezing her eyes shut tight and then wiping away the ensuing tears that fall.

"I'll sit with her," the doctor says softly, "Until you're ready." Laura nods, unable to express her gratitude in words without breaking down in tears. As the doctor leaves her, she bites her lip again, trying to concentrate on her breathing. She knew this was going to happen sooner rather than later, she saw her mother getting weaker and weaker, but somehow it still comes as a terrible stab to the heart to hear the doctor say it out loud. _Days, maybe a week._ The sting in her eyes intensifies and she chokes back a sob. No, no she can't do this - she needs to be strong. She needs a distraction, something to keep her feelings at a distance. Mr. Adama called, didn't he? She should see what he wanted, that might do her good. Laura takes out her phone and dials his number, not having to wait long for him to pick up.

"Laura? Are you all right?"

"Hello, Bill," she says, smiling slightly at his concern for her. She sits down in the chair outside her mother's room. "Yes, I'm fine. It's my mother actually, she . . . She's in the hospital. I'm sorry I had to hang up on you earlier she uh, gave us a little bit of a scare. She's all right now, though."

"Gods, I'm sorry. Are you sure you're all right? You sound like you're crying."

Laura lets a teary laugh escape her.

"Oh, I'm fine. What is it you were calling about, anyways?"

"Oh, uh. . . It's. . . Well I mean it can wait – it's not that – I mean surely it's not –"

"Mr. Adama, you're rambling." Laura's smile reaches her ears. Bill sighs over the phone.

"I was going to ask you to dinner, actually. But obviously now's not-"

"Like a date?"

"Yeah. A date."

"I'm afraid I'll be at the hospital until my father and sisters arrive tomorrow, but if the offer still stands, I'd love to take you up on it some other time."

"I – really?"

She smiles harder and laughs that teary laugh again at the sound of his surprise.

"Yes, it sounds like a lovely time."

"Did you say you're going to be alone at the hospital tonight?"

"Well, yes. I don't want to leave my mother alone, even if she'll likely be asleep for most of the night."

"I could stay with you."

"You . . . what?"

"If you want."

"Oh, no Bill, I couldn't-"

"It'd be my pleasure."

"But who would watch the boys?"

"I have someone. Which hospital?"

Laura sighs, exasperated but secretly pleased.

"I'm at _Asclepius'_ , off of North-"

"I know where it is. I'll see you soon."

And with that, he hangs up. Laura shakes her head, still smiling. Her smile fades as she prepares to go into her mother's room, but she's not on the brink of a break down anymore. And as an added bonus, she's feels a twinge of excitement at the prospect of Bill Adama coming to see her tonight. She lets out a long, heavy breath, mentally preparing herself for a conversation with her dying mother, and enters her room.


	8. Chapter 8

Notes are at the end.

* * *

Hospital food and emotional instability wasn't exactly Bill's idea of a prefect first date, but he'll take it. Luckily, his neighbors were available to watch Lee and Zak on such short notice, and Bill was able to leave the house an hour after he got home from work with enough time to run by the supermarket and pick up a bouquet of flowers.

The air rapidly changing from warm and heavy to cold and thin as he enters the hospital, Bill realizes, upon reaching the help desk, that he has no idea what Laura's mother's name is.

"Hello, can I help you?" asks the friendly face behind the counter.

"Yes, ah . . . I'm looking for Mrs. Roslin's room."

"First name?"

"Yeah, I don't know," Bill says, smiling sheepishly and rubbing the back of his head. "I'm visiting her daughter, Laura Roslin, if that helps."

"Roslin, hmm . . . Oh, yes I think I've found it. Judith Roslin, third floor, room 285. You'll need to sign in, and stick on one of these." The woman tears her eyes away from her computer and slides forward a clipboard with names and check-in times, as well as a visitor's sticker.

"All right," Bill says, filling out the form and taking the sticker. "Thank you. Third floor, room 285," he repeats to himself as he takes the elevator to the third floor. After departing the elevator, he finds the halls surprisingly easy to navigate. He walks a little awkwardly, as hospitals always make him nervous, but his steps get even heavier and his heart breaks a little as he takes in his surroundings. Not many patients wander the halls, but those who do are mostly bald, many of them women wearing scarves on their heads. There are nurses helping those without family present who are too weak to walk on their own, and what's even more disturbing is that some of these weaker patients can't be over thirty. It doesn't take him long for Bill to realize he's in the cancer ward.

He rounds a corner and spots the plaque he's been looking for, the one reading '285'. His heart skips a beat when he peers into the room and spots a familiar head of red hair. Suddenly he's not sure he made the right decision, coming here. He feels like an asshole, honestly. What right does he have to force himself into their situation? Laura probably doesn't want him here; he's only the father of one of her students – that's all. This is private, a lot more private than he had thought.

Then she looks up, and their eyes meet through the open blinds. Laura smiles, stands from her chair, and has opened the door before Bill has even thought of something proper to say.

"Bill, I'm glad you're here," Laura says softly as she opens the door. Her eyes are red, her mascara smudged just slightly and her cheeks tearstained. It's a sight that crushes his heart but is oddly beautiful on her.

"I brought these," he says quickly, handing her the flowers.

"For my mother? That's very sweet of you; she'll love them. I'll just put these in water, then I was going to get something to eat. Do you want to come in . . .?"

She trails off, stepping back slightly to permit him entrance. "Uh, sure," he says, stepping into the room with some hesitance.

Laura walks to the nightstand by her mother's bed and takes out the wilting flowers currently occupying the vase there, and replaces them with Bill's fresh ones.

The woman on the bed is old and thin, with deep creases on her face from years of worrying. Though her eyes are closed and a green scarf as replaced her hair, he can see the resemblance to Laura. Her lips, her jaw, and her nose are certainly similar. As soon as she's fixed up the flowers Laura kisses her sleeping mother's head and squeezes past Bill to the door. He follows her out, and they walk side by side down the hall.

"I'm sorry," Bill says, finally. "I didn't know she was . . . ."

"Dying? I know. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. She had a seizure earlier, and it scared me and I just needed to talk about other things. It's a good thing you called. I'm glad you're here, really." They board the elevator and Laura presses the button to take them down to the first floor.

"Is it breast cancer?" Bill asks. He's afraid to pry too much, but he has to say _something_.

"Good guess. She only has a few days left with us, now."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah, we are too."

Silence.

"So you said you have sisters?"

"Yes, two; they're much younger than me, that's why they're not here. I'm eight years older than Sandra, who's sixteen, and Cheryl is only twelve." She sighs as they get off the elevator. "This is going to break my father's heart. My mother, she's always been the strong one and me . . . well, I'm kind of a mess." She laughs, though it's not cheerful. "I don't know what I'm going to do. About my dad, my sisters . . . there's no one else to take care of them and their life is miles away from mine . . . I'm sorry, I was rambling, wasn't I?"

"It's all right," Bill says, tossing her a smile.

"I should warn you," she says as they cross the main lobby, "The food here is terrible. You might think you know bad hospital food, but you've never tasted anything quite like this."

Bill laughs. "I think I can handle it."

"No, I'm serious," Laura says, giggling as she looks up at him, "I'm only getting tater tots and a bag of chips."

"Oh, come on."

"You can brave it if you want to, but I'm certainly not."

They're laughing as they enter the cafeteria, which isn't very full. Laura, true to her word, gets a plate of tater tots and a bag of Doritos, while Bill gets pizza and fries.

"I'm telling you, that pizza is nasty."

"Well, I'll have to find out for myself, won't I?"

Laura has a hard time stifling her laughter as he takes a bite and immediately recoils. He quickly gulps his soda, his face contorting in disgust.

"You're right, I'm never doing that again."

"You'd be better off listening to me more in the future; I think you'll find that I'm always right."

"Oh?"

Laura 'hmm's as she sips her drink, and chuckles as he shakes his head, the taste of cardboard pizza lingering in his mouth.

"This isn't funny."

"Oh, but Mr. Adama, it _is,_ " she says, popping a tater tot into her mouth. "So, tell me more about this 'date' you mentioned."

"Oh, that."

"Yes."

"Well er, I thought . . ." He sighs and laughs nervously, scratching the back of his head.

"You are cute, aren't you," Laura says, leaning back in her chair and sipping her drink some more. Bill blushes slightly and laughs.

"I like you. That's got to be obvious by now," he says.

"Like me? You hardly know me."

"I like what I've seen so far. Three weeks is enough time, right?"

"I don't think you've thought this through."

"Haven't I?"

"No, you haven't." Laura sighs, suddenly becoming serious. "You just got divorced, Bill, and you have two kids to think of. Look, I really like you, I do. A lot more than I'd like to, actually, but Lee and Zak deserve a lot better than me. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have agreed to-"  
"There are a thousand reasons for you to not want to do this right now," Bill says, "A thousand reasons that I would accept without question, but backing out because you don't think you're good enough? That's ridiculous, Laura."

"I'm not who you think I am, Bill. I may seem like a nice little schoolteacher but inside I'm all twisted up and I'm about to lose my mother, which means that I'll have to end up taking care of my family when she's gone. And that's not even everything."

"All the more reason for you not to be alone."

"Bill, I can't do this to Lee and Zak, or to you-"

Bill then stands, leans over the table, grabs her face and kisses her all in one fluid motion.

"Tell me honestly you don't want that to happen again."

"Uh, I . . . no, no don't-"

"What if I said that I liked you _a lot_."

"I just don't think this is a good idea for either of us right now –"

"Come on Laura, hear me out. We both have messy lives, we're both going through difficult times, why can't we help each other get through it? Who says we have to do it alone?"

"Alone is what I have. It's all I have."

"But isn't it getting old?"

Laura sighs. "You don't understand."

They're silent for a few moments.

"Never mind," Bill says, standing from the table. "If this isn't what you want, I'm not gonna force you. Goodbye, Laura Roslin. It was very nice meeting you." He then sets his drink down (perhaps with a bit more force than necessary) and walks away.

But he stops after only walking a few feet, and sighs. He looks back and sees Laura slumped in her chair, staring solemnly down at her tater tots. Just as it looks like she might start to cry, he internally groans and makes his way back to her as fast as he can without looking too desperate. He kneels beside her, causing her to jump slightly in surprise and quickly wipe away tears that haven't fallen yet.

"What are you-"

"You don't have to commit anything," he says, taking her hand in his. "Not a thing. But I've grown a little attached to you, unfortunately," he smiles, "And now I've gone and started to care about you. Stupid, I know, but I can't leave you alone; do you understand that? You don't have to commit to anything, I won't take you on dates and I won't kiss you and you don't have to be around the boys for even a second, but I'm not going to leave you alone," he chuckles, "I'd be a shitty friend if I did."

Laura swallows hard and sucks in her bottom lip. If he hadn't just been sitting with her, he'd think she had already been crying. Bill looks up at her, keeping her hand trapped in his, hopeful that her response might be even a little bit positive.

Then, in a single instant, she leans forward and does the unthinkable: she kisses him.

"Fine," she says, kissing him again.

"Fine?" he says, standing and bringing her to her feet with him.

"I have about a thousand chaotic things in my life right now, what's one more? Who knows, maybe you'll turn out to be my peace."

Before he can speak again, she kisses him and drags him into out of the cafeteria and into an empty examination room.

"Well if I knew this is what you had in mind-" Laura stops his smartass commenting with another kiss and her arms around his neck.

He's done arguing.

* * *

How did you like this one, honestly? I feel like the relationship development is a little unrealistic for their characters? I tried to justify it by saying that they're younger (Laura's only 24 and Bill's not too far ahead), so their personalities are going to be different. Which is true, but still, I'd like to know what you all think. And if you have anything you want to see in later chapters (no matter how specific) let me know. It really helps. Thanks for the support.


	9. Chapter 9

"So, we're doing this?"

Laura sighs at Bill's question as she fixes her hair and straightens her dress in the bathroom.

"Yes," she says, walking back into room, where Bill is sitting on the bed. "But slowly." Bill grins and grabs her by the waist, pulling her in between his legs. "I said _slowly_ , Bill."

"I know, I know," Bill says, but then (grinning), lifts his chin to capture her lips in a kiss. Laura can't stop a tiny moan from escaping her as her hands place themselves on his shoulders, her mind losing track of time for a few moments before she comes back to her senses and pulls away.

"No, Bill!"

"Okay, okay," he says, chuckling and walking to the door. "But _you're_ the one who pulled me into an empty hospital room and jumped _me_ , remember?"

Laura groans as she follows him into the hall.

"How long are you staying?" she asks, while shooting him a glare as he tries to wrap his arm around her waist.

"How long do you want me?"  
"I'd like you all night," Laura sighs, then blushes as Bill grins. "In a manner of speaking. And you can't, anyways. You have work tomorrow and the boys need to be taken care of."

"I can stay. The neighbors won't mind having the kids for a night."

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

Bill shrugs and stuffs his hands into his pockets. "I like you." Laura blushes. "And you're a _very_ good kisser." She punches his arm as they wait on the elevator.

"You really want to be here? At the hospital? All night? With me and my dying mother?"

"Yes."

"Well . . . fine." Laura sighs again, but it's lighter this time, giving away the fact that she's secretly relieved to hear him say it.

The ride up the elevator is full of Bill's quick, stolen kisses and Laura's giggles and feeble protests, but they both sober up once the elevator _dings_ and the doors slide open. This isn't exactly a happy occasion, after all.

But Laura's spirits are lifted when they come to her mother's room to find her sitting up in bed. She smiles.

"Well, Mr. Adama," she says, placing her hand on the door handle. "Are you ready to meet my mother?"

"I thought you said you wanted to take things slow?" Bill says jokingly, and Laura chuckles as she opens the door.

"Oh, hello, nice of you to show up!"

"Sorry, Mom," Laura laughs, sitting by her mother's bed as Bill closes the door behind her. "I was just getting something to eat."

"Who's this?" Her mother suddenly looks very interested, green eyes sparkling as she notices Bill.

"This is Bill," Laura says, taking a deep breath. "He's the father of one of the children I'm tutoring."

"Oh, I see." Her mother's smile only widens. "Well, don't be shy – come in! Tell me, what's the father of one of my daughter's students doing here?"

"Well, I . . . er . . . well, Mrs. Roslin, I . . ." Bill stutters and Laura blushes, causing her mother to laugh.

"He's . . . we're . . ." Laura tries to explain, but comes up short, which makes her mother laugh even harder. Laura chuckles and shakes her head.

"We're friends," Laura finally manages.

"A little more than _that_ ," Bill mutters, almost too quietly to be heard, but not quite. Laura gives him her coldest glare. Her mother laughs again.

"Oh, Laura, could you get me something from the vending machine? You know how the food is here."

"I'll get it," Bill offers, standing up a little too quickly. Laura's mother chuckles.

"All right. A granola bar, please."

Bill nods and leaves the room as quickly as possible. Laura sighs and lets her head fall to the bed.

" _Mom_ ," she groans.

"What?" her mother chuckles. "I didn't do anything."

"You embarrassed him!"

"Oh, he'll get over it." She settles more comfortably against her pillows. "He has kids, right? So a relationship with him is going to be serious. That's not really your type, these days."

"Yeah, I . . . I know." Laura looks away, biting her lip. Her mother sighs.

"How long is he staying?"

"All night."

"He's really smitten with you."

"Yeah," Laura laughs, still avoiding her gaze.

"Oh, Laura," her mother says, touching Laura's wrist. "Look at me, sweetheart." When Laura looks up, she has tears in her eyes. "You know I'm proud of you, right?"

"I'll never understand why, after all I've put you through."

"That wasn't your fault."

"It was my –"

"No. Stop it. Quit blaming yourself for everything, Laura – I'm _sick_ and _tired_ of it. You can't be expected to handle everything with grace and composure. I don't know if you've noticed, but you're human just like the rest of us. You're gonna frak up honey, it happens. And after everything, I promise you nobody blames you. Nobody but you. You're finally getting your life back together – be proud of yourself! This Adama boy is proof that you're doing well. Even if it doesn't work out, I'm still proud of you. I'll always be proud of you."

"Mom, I don't –"

"But if you remember one thing," her mother continues, "One thing I've said to you after I've gone, just remember to trust, to never give up on love. Now I know that sounds corny and I know you're too practical for this sort of talk, but I mean it. Never give up, no matter what life throws at you. And life can be pretty shitty to you, I know."

Laura laughs, squeezing her mother's hand.

"They had two different kinds of granola bars, so I just got both of them." Bill suddenly comes back into the room, snacks in hand. "I . . . Am I interrupting something?" Laura shakes her head.

"No, come in. Did you get me something too? I seem to recall that I didn't get a chance to finish my dinner." Bill grins.

"Promise me, Laura," her mother says quietly to her. "Promise me you won't-"

"I won't, Mom." Laura looks up at Bill again as he fumbles with all of the food in his hands, and a small smile works its way onto her face. "I promise."


	10. Chapter 10

By the time 11 o'clock rolls around, Bill's eyes are starting to droop and it's getting harder and harder to stifle his yawns. At around 8 o'clock the neighbors let his boys call him to say goodnight (although they seemed far more interested in talking to Laura than to him), and now, as he tears his eyes away from the television hanging from the ceiling, he realizes that Laura has fallen asleep hunched over her mother's bed. He sighs and quirks a smile in her direction.

"So, you just got out of a divorce, huh?"

Bill starts as Judith Roslin, who is apparently not asleep, starts talking out of the blue.

"Uh, yes ma'am, I did. About a month ago, officially."

"Unofficially?"

Bill turns away from the TV to face Laura's mother. He knew this had to be coming soon; it might as well be now.

"Unofficially our marriage was over a long time ago."

"I see. Was it your fault?"

Well, now he knows where Laura gets her promptness. "Partly. I could have been around more. I could have been smarter, tried harder. But she, my ex-wife, is . . . well, she's far from innocent. She's paying the price for that now."

"Oh?"

"She's in jail, Mrs. Roslin." Bill chalks up a grim smile. He doesn't want to go into more detail than that, and he's glad when Mrs. Roslin doesn't pry any further.

"I see. Do you still love her?"

"Love," he says thoughtfully. It takes him a few moments to continue, and he can feel Mrs. Roslin's green eyes analyzing him through every second of it. He's afraid of saying the wrong thing, but he can't bring himself to lie. "Can you define it?"

"Hmm, answering a question with a question. You're not off to a very good start now are you, Mr. Adama."

As Bill's face contorts to reflect his horror, Mrs. Roslin smiles. "I'm only teasing," she says. "It's a good question," she adds, eyeing him thoughtfully. "How would you describe the love you have for your children?"

"They're everything to me," Bill says at once. "I'd do anything for them."

"That's right. In my experience, love is putting someone's needs above everyone else's – including yours. You think you'd know it if you loved someone, wouldn't you? It's supposed to be simple. I love my husband. I couldn't live without him. Well, I might be able to survive, physically, but I'd never be the same. I'd certainly never be able to love like that again. I already gave my whole self to him – he has my heart forever. It would be impossible for me to give it to someone else. I could care about someone, I could possibly marry again, but it wouldn't be the same. If you love your ex-wife, Mr. Adama, don't you dare come near my daughter. She's nobody's second best. She's nobody's replacement. If she gives her heart to someone, she should get one back, not bits and pieces of a broken soul. That's not fair to her. She deserves better."

Bill sits in silence, his eyes on the floor.

"I don't," he says finally, quietly. He looks up. "I don't love Carolanne. We don't love each other. We were 'in love' once. We were good together. But being good together isn't enough, no matter how much you want it to be. I wanted it to be. But we were committed to our kids, to our marriage, not to each other. I'll always care about her, I still miss her, the way she used to be, but . . . What we had wasn't real." He shakes his head and scoffs. "That's not love."

Bill lets out a heavy sigh. It's taken him a long time to finally say those words aloud. To even think them. But from the way it hurts, he knows they're true. Mrs. Roslin's eyes are still piercing his skull, but she nods.

"It's different with her, you know." Bill nods in Laura's direction, glancing at her fondly before returning his gaze to Mrs. Roslin.

"How can you tell?"

"Because she was just the schoolteacher tutoring my son until one day, she wasn't. It's simple, like you said. It's never been that simple before. Mrs. Roslin," Bill scoots forward in his seat, "I want you to know that–"

Mrs. Roslin holds up her hand. "Stop. You passed." She smiles. Bill smiles back, and let's out a relieved sigh. There are a few moments of silence then, and Bill lets them pass. Mrs. Roslin looks like she's thinking hard.

"My daughter's a special girl," she says.

"Yes, she is."  
"No, no . . . Listen, Mr. Adama. There's something you have to understand. Laura has been through hard times, she's going through a hard time now, and there are hard times ahead of her. We're talking about a girl who has never known peace. She hasn't been able to afford the luxury of love in a very long time, and she's taking a big chance with you. It's dangerous for her, and she knows it. You cannot break her heart – do you hear me? If you think her life might be too much for you, if you can't handle her past, present, and future, you need to leave now. Let me make this crystal clear." She leans over, piercing Bill with an unnerving stare and an icy expression. "If you break that poor girl's heart, you will have hell's fury to face, whether I'm here to give it to you or not. She has more people who care about her than she knows. Do you understand?"

Bill gulps, nodding. It's hard to believe that such a sweet face could so quickly turn terrifying.

"Yes ma'am. I understand."

"Good." Mrs. Roslin smiles and leans back. "Good."


End file.
